Dick's Adventures with Pretty Redhead Aliens
by magicmadnessheavensin
Summary: Dick Grayson is ninety percent sure that his new neighbours are aliens. Too bad the youngest daughter is so gorgeous that he doesn't have the courage to ask her. [standalone piece - completed] [Dick and Kory]


_Hello lovely readers of mine! Happy Winter Holidays! I hope you have a wonderful new year!_

 _Here is the standalone universe that I've created. The basic explanation for this universe, is that all heroes/villains on Earth in the DC Universe, live in the state of DC. This state is home to many cities, such as Gotham City, Star City and Central City, as well as influential people like Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen and Diana Prince. All of the younger heroes are teenagers or haven't been introduced (but they still exist). This is a mixture of the Teen Titans cartoon, but it also takes a lot of elements from Teen Titans: Year One (such as the 'fabulous five'). I've tried to stay as closely to canon as possible, but it's a difficult task. Lastly, this is a Dick and Kory story, but it mentions other relationships and other people._

 _Please leave a review! I would love to hear your feedback! :)_

* * *

 **DICK'S ADVENTURES WITH PRETTY REDHEAD ALIENS**

 _ **written by valentina for the winter holiday season 2015**_

 _ **[rated teen for the rare swear word]**_

* * *

 _ **PART ONE of ONE**_

* * *

The whole neighbourhood of the affluent Gotham Heights were talking about it, and fourteen-year-old Dick Grayson didn't know why. He'd heard the rumours – a royal family from a Caribbean island torn apart by war had bought the house on the edge of their gated residence (affectionately dubbed 'The Vega' by its previous owners) – but he had a feeling that they were probably another spoilt family, like every other person in this place.

The older residents were worse though, because Bruce always felt a compulsion to invite them to any Wayne social gathering. They would coo over "little Dick Grayson" (even though he was practically a _man_ ) with his uncomfortable suit that Bruce had forced him to wear, inquiring about his lack of a girlfriend, his progress at school and whether or not he liked the canapés. It was boring and pointless, but his mentor soaked in the attention like a sponge with charming smiles and the occasional romantic banter that Dick had the misfortune to hear.

Sometimes he'd catch one of them scolding a gardener about the number of rose trellises on the front garden, or complaining about the colour of the water in the fountain. Everybody tended to gather in the Davies' pavilion, drinking tea and gossiping about whose flowerbed was the most unkempt.

This was the current event that fifteen-year-old Dick Grayson was forced to endure, but it was worse because Bruce had insisted on making him wear a shirt and trousers, even when it felt like 90 degrees (or 32 degrees Celsius, as Babs liked to remind him, since only five countries in the whole world used Fahrenheit). The location of the tea party from Tartarus (Donna had been teaching him about Greek mythology) had been moved to the front garden of the van der Grants' house because it meant that everybody could watch the new family move in.

Donna was currently spending her week in Greece with her older sister, which was awesome for her, but with Wally currently in Kansas, Roy visiting the Bahamas with _his_ guardian and Garth's whole vacation being dedicated to the Great Barrier Reef, their group was in pieces and Dick was the only one stuck in the boring state of DC City.

An elderly lady dressed up in a floppy flower hat shoved a plate of cookies into his chest. "Would you like a cookie dear?"

It was Mrs Isolte whose husband's money had increased after he'd invested in several hundred stocks that had quintupled a dozen times during one lucky November. Now he ran a hotshot company that had narrowly missed court after a possible money laundering scandal.

He shook his head, thrusting his hands into his pockets but scratching the back of his neck before he did. It was a habit he'd picked up from Bruce whenever he was uncomfortable in a situation, like now for instance, where crumbs were spilling all over his trousers.

"I'm fine thanks," he said, pushing the plate away.

That didn't deter her, and he was the victim of just _another_ criticism found in this rude neighbourhood.

"Nonsense!" Mrs Isolte almost knocked the wind out of him by the sheer force of her action. The plate was back again, pressing into his stomach sharply and nobody seemed alert enough to notice it. "A skinny boy such as yourself should really learn to eat more."

There were two points wrong with her sentence – the first being that he wasn't skinny. Dick already spent most of his spring break learning how to use the equipment in the Manor's gigantic gym and he lifted weights every week. He found it relaxing, and Bruce couldn't find anything to complain about it (except for the universal, "you could do it more" but that was practically his guardian's life motto).

The second thing was that building muscle mass required meat and fish (like beef) not sugary cookies made by some French world-class chef. Of course, arguing with the old woman wasn't going to do anything, and so Dick shook his head.

"I'm fine," he insisted, and moved out of the way before she had a chance to reply.

He was so bored, and there was nothing to do except admire the view of the two empty houses that were owned by the Queen family (Roy's guardian) and the Troy-Prince family. Dick missed Donna and Roy so much; they were usually the ones that helped him survive the dreary community events that Bruce dragged him to.

There wasn't anybody present that was remotely close to his age. Sometimes he was able to convince Babs to join him, but she was having a daddy-daughter weekend with the Commissioner and wouldn't officially be back in DC until next Tuesday. This left him with – he glanced quickly at his watch, working out the time: seventy-four hours, thirty-three minutes and twelve seconds counting.

He elicited a glare from Mrs Isolte who'd dropped her pretty china plate all over the sidewalk and was currently ordering around some poor butler to clean up the mess. The cookies were nothing but dusty crumbles, but he was ninety percent sure that she had another batch hidden around somewhere in her large purse.

It didn't take him long to scan the crowd and find Bruce discussing the state of America's economy. Dick knew that for press routines, the dumb playboy persona was laid on thickly, but his guardian was actually extremely intelligent. Unfortunately, by the looks of his body language, Bruce was either flirting with Selina Kyle or they were playing an extremely elaborate game of randomly touching each other's arms every five seconds. It was obviously the former, but secretly wished for the latter, knowing that if things went well for his guardian, Dick was spending another night in the East Wing, far away from Bruce's bedroom.

Biting back a yawn, he watched as nineteen-year-old Helena Bertinelli subtly grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it before anybody could even notice that she was underage. He wasn't even sure what her family did, but he had a hunch that it had something to do with the numerous people wearing black who sneaked in and out of the neighbourhood at twelve AM.

There was baby Lulu Weathers who was going to inherit a billion dollar hotel franchise when she turned twenty-four, clutching a silver rattle and shaking it as if her entire life depended on it. And in the corner there was a string quartet playing _Für Elise_ , while Dick yanked the collar of his shirt, trying to catch the non-existent breeze.

Somebody was discussing the colour of petunias, and Helena was sipping at her third glass. Another person was complaining about Blüdhaven's growing rate of crime but the conversation changed abruptly when he got closer. At least having his friends around meant that somebody was interested in having a conversation with him.

Donna usually ended up crushing on some teenage cousin visiting their snobby family whilst Roy casually flirted with the oblivious girl. And Wally would casually stuff his face with thousand dollar cupcakes with Garth slurping any liquid substance intended for the guests. Dick tried not to reminisce because all it did was remind him how lonely he was, and that there wasn't exactly anything he could do. Unless he volunteered himself as tribute and talked to one of the nicer neighbours, but he believed that the chances of somebody like _that_ existing in a place like _here_ were slim to nothing.

He scratched his chin, and quietly groaned for the thousandth time that afternoon. The whole party was a ploy to investigate what their new residents would be like, but unless it was somebody his age or a serial killer, it really didn't concern him. But Bruce had forced him to come, and Alfred (the Wayne family's butler) had refused to let him stay indoors, even when it was revealed that Dick wanted to work in the gym.

There were sparkly streamers hanging from the trees that were leftover from the silver anniversary of somebody's wedding anniversary, and they shone and fluttered in the wind. Narrowly avoiding stepping on a patch of Saffron Crocuses (it was sad, he noted, that he could name them from appearance) Dick made his way to the front section and slumped onto a white chair.

A beeping sound resonated around the walls of the houses and a large white lorry steered through the gates of Gotham Heights, travelling on the smooth tarmac. Whispers arose quickly and he fought to roll his eyes until they fell back into his head. It was just a vehicle, not a representation of the new family's wealth.

But first impressions meant everything to the residents – Bruce included – and the following actions determined how warm of a welcome the new family were going to receive.

The lorry finally stopped at The Vega and six men dressed in blue matching suits stepped out and immediately began to haul hundreds of boxes. On each t-shirt was the logo _McAllister Movers_ and the nametags of each mover were written on the front. He counted fifty-seven boxes, before he got bored, all of them with prim and proper labelling systems. Some of them had words written on them, but he'd never seen the language before.

When they were done, the men went back into the lorry, and another one took its place. And then another one. By then, the residents were chatting animatedly about the type of people who were going to move in, and Dick found himself wishing once again, that he was with kids his own age instead of stuck watching a never-ending film of boxes being unloaded and the occasional command ("The customer wants this taken to the seventh bedroom.") being ordered.

He recognised a few names like 'Lucia' and 'Ryan,' and he guessed that they were probably a middle-aged couple without any kids. Which wasn't a surprise, seeing as that was eighty five percent of the demographic that lived there.

Turning slightly, he noticed that Bruce was beckoning him, but the temptation to ignore him was too great. He was talking to a middle-aged man with a slightly younger woman by his side; both had dark hair with the latter having a slight curl to hers. Dick gave a lazy smile but Bruce's glare overpowered any other teasing reaction, and he reluctantly trudged over the trio.

As soon as he had reached them, Bruce moved a hand out. "This is my son, Dick Grayson."

"Nice to meet you," the man said, with a gruff tone. He shook his hand rigorously, with a grin. The woman waited a minute before giving a warm and pretty smile. She was wearing a sundress, and Dick felt like he had seen her before.

"Hello," she greeted.

Bruce looked at him again, charisma oozing out of every word. "This is Steve Dayton," he motioned to the man, "and Rita Dayton. They moved here last year, and they've adopted a boy who's three years younger than you."

Mr Dayton nodded, and in that split second Dick remembered that Rita was a famous actress that had starred in three movies that year. "His name's Garfield Logan and he's coming in from Africa. The poor boy lost both of his parents."

He didn't need to hear the story to understand the ache. Instead he stared at the patch of grass underneath his feet, whilst Rita began to talk about schooling and adjustments.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He'll be going to the same school as you," she told him. "Gotham High, right?"

Before he could get any word in edgeways, Bruce nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. "There are another two _children –_ " Dick hated that word. "– who live here and go to the same school as Dick. Roy Harper and Donna Troy, right?"

"Yeah," Dick nodded, having nothing else to say.

Rita's lips curled upwards. "That's wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Garfield will be coming home with us in August, and he'll already have some friends!"

He inclined his head, and looked back at Rita's green eyes that were shining. She looked so excited at the prospect of having her own son, and he wondered if Bruce had ever felt an inkling of that emotion when _he_ was going through the paperwork and process of adopting Dick.

Another lorry made its way to the house and Dick could tell that everybody was getting impatient. They wanted confirmation for their crappy rumours and gossip; they wanted to know which movie star was living there with which number spouse of theirs (first, third, etc.), why these people were rich, which company they were running, every single detail of their mundane lives.

And then finally, a silver Mercedes came gliding through, and out stepped two elderly gentlemen wearing suits similar to the one's Alfred wore (but these ones looked about fifty times more expensive) with matching black ties and tufts of grey, wispy hair. Everybody had stopped talking, watching with wide eyes of anticipation and Dick was doing his best not to pull a face in response. Even the music had stopped, with the musicians craning their next trying to see what was going on.

It was definitely a snobbish couple, Dick reckoned, as an elderly woman appeared from the car. The extra gentleman had to be their butler. But then another woman stepped out, and murmurs filled the crowd. He was really confused about the whole situation – why were there so many couples (he assumed that they were couples) living in one house?

Mrs Weathers was the closest one to the car, so she walked up to the group and shook their hands. "You must be the Anders Family, right?"

One of the men guffawed loudly, and the ladies bit back cold smiles. "We're the personal staff of the family," he explained, and she immediately drew back as if she was going to catch a disease from skin contact with them. More whispers but Dick could catch the ends of sentences and most people were pleased that this new family had a sense of decency, although he didn't really understand how employing loads of people equated to that.

"Oh!" Mrs Weathers sounded positively delightful ( _sickeningly_ delightful). "When are the family coming in, then?" He couldn't see her expressions, but the strain in her voice gave Dick all of the information he needed.

The second man checked his gold watch, and the whole group collectively stepped backwards. It was mesmerising how in synch they all were.

"Right now," the man smirked, with an air that reminded Dick of an overly exaggerative Bond villain, but instead of trying to kill everybody, he just wanted to impress them all instead.

A Lamborghini parked itself in the front driveway, and the dark-haired boy caught sight of an extremely tall man (with hair the colour of fire) holding a stern expression. Yet again, everybody had gone silent, but for the first time in his life, Dick found himself hanging on each word, genuinely interested in the interactions to come.

Armed with her cheery smile, and excited eyes, Delilah Weathers greeted Mr Anders (or the most likely in the family to be him). She radiated exuberance, but the man himself didn't seem to be that affected by her enthusiasm. "Oh it is my pleasure to introduce you to Gotham Heights on behalf of all of the residents!" she said, without taking a breath in between.

Mr Anders thanked her, and then one of the staff opened the door of the car, and an equally dazzling woman stepped out with crimson hair and cool eyes. Her skin lacked any unnecessary creases but the effect was completely different from the other Botox-infected women that lived in the area.

The whole family looked like they had been ripped from the pages of a glossy magazine. Picture perfect smiles. Not a single hair out of place. Pale clothing that complimented tanned skin and shiny shoes.

Unfortunately, it was the oldest daughter (the only member of the family to have jet black hair and fair skin) who ruined the effect with her narrowed eyes and lips pressed into an angry pout. She spun on her heel without a single word, and disappeared through the white doors.

 _Für Elise_ resumed once again but it was evident that the subject of all attention was on the Anders family. And Dick didn't blame them.

Bruce had started his routine alarmingly quick, and his young ward took that as a cue to stalk back to the house undetected. He'd only moved a couple of inches when a soft hand brushed his own. He turned around in frustration, ready to bear another argument about cookies.

It was the second daughter with her curls that trailed over her shoulder like a cherry waterfall, and green eyes that peered underneath curly thick lashes. She stood mere feet away from him, and Dick melted slightly in response.

"You were the only person around here that looked close to my age," she admitted shyly. Her hand outstretched towards his. "I'm Kory."

He was so caught up that he didn't notice her hand until it awkwardly dropped to her side and a look of hurt flashed across her eyes. "Uh…" he responded, eloquently. "I'm Dick."

"Dick," she tested out, before smiling back at him. "It's lovely to meet you, Dick."

"Likewise." His mind was busy trying to remember how Bruce interacted with women, and desperately tried to copy the method with failing results. Instead of using the smooth tone that his guardian had, he ended up sounding disinterested and bored, leaving Kory to bite her lip in discomfort.

"Do you do this often?" Kory asked, and there were hints of a European accent, but Dick couldn't place where.

His hands found themselves once again, in his pockets. "Huh?"

She was turning rosy, obviously embarrassed. " _This,_ " she motioned around herself. "Having a tea party on a Saturday."

"Oh," he understood. "Yeah…it's pretty common, I guess. Usually there are other teenagers here, which makes it _way_ more interesting, but right now it's just me and you."

He hadn't meant to insinuate anything but the words had just blurted out without fully going through his brain and he cringed outwardly. This was going unbelievably horribly. Her eyes widened in surprise, almost as if she was slowly processing his words and then after discovering their meaning, trying not to react outwardly. Which didn't really work, because he _had_ been a bit of an asshole.

She stepped a tiny bit closer, and changed the subject. "...so how long have you lived here?"

"A couple of years," he replied, vagueness being his strong suit. "So are you going to Gotham High?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, when in reality he was trying to calculate which classes (if any) he'd share with her, since she was _really_ pretty.

Kory nodded, "Yes. I've..." she paused, frowning slightly. "I've been homeschooled since the age of four, and so this'll be my first time at school. I'm really worried it'll be hard though."

"It probably will," he blurted out again, having not engaged his brain to mouth filter. "Crap! No! Um...it'll be fine. I'm _sure_..."

Her parents were calling her, and she smiled. "I'll see you around then?" and there was this playful tone to her voice, like she was flirting (but in a friendly way? Dick didn't know how to explain it). But as she walked away, all he did was feel horrible, since he'd insulted her twice in one conversation.

* * *

"Wally get back here!" Dick whispered into the darkness. The lack of response only confirmed his suspicions: his best friend had already disappeared to complete his master plan. He'd only arrived a day ago, but he'd already been causing trouble ever since Dick had accidentally revealed that the Anders Family might be royalty. Nobody had received confirmation for these rumours, and Wally West, king of the idiots, had decided that it was his utmost duty to do so.

He searched for his ginger-haired, freckled best friend whilst simultaneously avoiding certain spots on the grass. There were light sensors everywhere to prevent thieves from sneaking around, and security cameras dotted in the most obscure of places.

Dick tried again, groaning slightly. "Wally! Where the hell are you?"

His only response was the sound of rustling leaves.

It had been five days since the tea-party (he hated calling it that, but that was the official name of it) and he'd ignored the Anders family as much as he could. That turned out to be a near impossible feat since Bruce decided that he wanted to personally welcome the Family with a food basket, leaving Dick awkwardly standing by the door whilst the family chatted, casually trying to avoid eye contact with Kory.

She'd given him a pretty smile, and she waved at him whenever he had the misfortune of catching her eye, and he still felt really bad. Kory was beautiful, and he'd already started to develop a tiny crush on her. But every time Dick tried talking to her, the words would get stuck in his throat and he'd choke on them until he ended up offending her or worse.

The temptation to leave Wally out in the cool blackness was pretty strong, but Dick fought it. Six more paces to the right, and he could make out the hazy figure of his best friend, currently standing beside the front door of the Anders household. He seemed to be paused in thought, and Dick took that moment to try and convince him to get back inside.

"Wally, come _on_!"

Gotham Heights was divided into three separate areas, the centrepiece being six houses surrounding the pavilion. They were placed in a circle formation with a large gap to the right which led to the crystal-covered, almost uninviting, shiny gates. Each residence was decorated with rows of beautiful flowerbeds and a tall dim lamp post beside it.

The lawn in the middle had been freshly cut earlier that day, and the smell practically hit him. It seemed to linger on his clothes, even when he'd moved considerably away.

The redhead smiled, and even in the dim lighting, Dick could see the white glow of his teeth and the lopsided grin that showed them all. His blue jeans had ice-cream stains on them and there was a streak of soda on his green t-shirt. He was the human embodiment of mess, but Dick was so used to it that it seemed _wrong_ when Wally didn't look scruffy.

Wally shook his head, clusters of orange hair sticking up awkwardly. "We've gotta find out if she's really a princess! Dude, how amazing would that be?"

Honestly, considering how much of a fool he had acted when talking to Kory, finding out that she was a princess was the least of his worries. But Dick didn't reveal that opinion; instead he crossed his arms and sighed. "And how are you planning to do _that_?" he asked, forever assuming the role of the voice of reason.

"Easy," Wally said, as if he was explaining how to bake a cake. "We go through their trash until we find something referencing to their royal status."

Forgetting the absurdity of the situation for a moment, Dick questioned, "If they really are a royal family, don't you think their rubbish would be thoroughly sorted out before it reached the trashcan?"

His best friend put a finger to his chin, and it was evident that he _really_ hadn't thought his plan through. But instead of arguing the case, Wally bounded to the white bins and started to rifle through it, causing random objects to fall out and clatter to the ground. Dick was surprised that nobody had heard the large bang, as a bag of old cutlery scattered on the gravel and rolled around.

"Aren't you gonna help?" the redhead asked.

As interested as he was (and the answer was a percentage in minus numbers), Dick finally stepped forward and lifted the second glossy bin open. The first item was a carry bag filled to the brim with overflowing clothes. He carefully lifted it up, but as it touched the ground, it exploded, depositing random socks rolled into balls on the empty flowerbed.

 _Oh God_. Dick paled and stared at the trashcan with wide eyes. There was a purple bra hidden behind a mouldy sandwich.

They were going to get into so much trouble.

"Have you found anything?" Wally asked, impatient. He was rifling through his third, having supposedly found nothing.

"Nope," Dick admitted. "Chances are, we're not gonna find anything. What exactly is there going to be that will indicate that this family is royal?"

Wally was silent for a few minutes, before coming up with an unhelpful answer. "I don't know. Like a document addressed to the king…or something similar?"

"But wouldn't those documents be kept somewhere? Or burnt? Or _shredded_?" Exasperation laced in his voice, Dick narrowly avoided spilling a pot of purple glitter (who the hell bought _two litres_ of glittery paint?! – then again, he reasoned, there were two teenage _girls_ living in the house).

His best friend snapped, "Just keep on looking!"

Two wads of gum stuck all over the side meant that he had to be extra careful. Kim (the older sister who never stopped scowling) was the only member of the family that was constantly chewing bubblegum and blowing bright grey bubbles that matched her streaking eyeliner.

He remembered the way she'd flirtatiously winked at him yesterday, and he'd awkwardly smiled back, not really sure how to react. Bruce's balls sometimes brought giggly teenage girls clad in pink dresses, but after he had politely declined their advances, they usually stalked off and found another prey. But Kim had this special obsession with non-verbal actions and frankly, it made him quite uncomfortable at times (and not in a good way like her sister did).

The pair continued to work in silence. Dick found loads of everyday rubbish, like cartons of orange juice (or 'Oragensaft' since their drinks were imported from Germany). There were a few low calorie brunch bar boxes (he assumed that this was the key to Mrs Anders' extremely thin figure) and empty bottles of strawberry scented shampoo (which was what Kory used, because her hair always smelt like strawberries, not that he'd been sniffing it or anything weird like that…).

There were plenty of apple cores (too _many_ apple cores) which had turned to mush and gave a horrible smell. Four empty cereal boxes (three of which were Cocoa Pops – had to be the younger, unnamed brother, because Dick couldn't imagine Kory eating them every morning). And loads of envelopes of letters sent from Tamaran, with really fancy stamps on them.

They were silent, which made Dick feel more guilty about what he was doing, since it was an invasion of privacy and that was the only thing his mind could focus on (apart from the occasional time where it drifted to Kory, but he'd quickly dismissed those thoughts because they weren't the most appropriate at this time).

Suddenly Wally staggered backwards, clutching his sides. "Holy…" he stuttered. "Holy crap."

Dick's head whipped to the side. "What?" he asked, frowning. When he didn't get a reply, he tried again. "Wally? Is everything okay?"

The aforementioned Wally stood mortified, eyes as big as saucers fixated on the contents of the can. His hands trembled vigorously, and he took two steps backward before falling to his knees.

"Oh my god." Wally whispered. "There's a brain in there."

Dick's hearing strained, trying to figure out if he'd heard correctly. A brain? What _was_ he going on about?

"Wally, calm down!" Dick said. "You're probably seeing things."

"I'm really not! _Look_!" Wally insisted, gagging slightly.

He took three steps forward, inhaled sharply and peered into the half-empty bin. Half expecting it to be a signature Wally prank, Dick was horribly surprised. The lack of lighting made everything harder to see but he managed to make out a mushy, pale pink blob sitting at the top of rubbish. Poking it with his finger, he sickened. It was nauseatingly squishy.

For the third time that night, he wished he'd brought his phone or a flashlight so he could investigate it properly. Wally still hadn't made a sound, so he turned around to make sure that the redhead hadn't passed out – he was very squeamish and usually fainted at the most minute of things, like the sight of blood, or a needle (although Dick understood the latter, since injections were the one of the worst things on the planet).

"It…" Dick trailed off, all rational explanations departing from his mind. "Um…it could be Jell-O…or a mouldy cake with, um, fungus growing on it…or…" His reasoning was pathetic.

Wally staggered upright, fingers still shaking. "I, I think we should go."

Dick nodded and they quickly started to find their way back to Wayne Manor. He glanced up at the front window, and almost jumped. Coming out from the window was a bright illuminated light, the colour of pastel green. It shone powerfully, and deformed shadows moved around the room. Shadows with added limbs and curved bodies. For the second time in his life, Dick was almost paralysed with fear, shaking hysterically.

"Shit!" he swore, the words tumbling out. "Wally _look_!"

The redhead turned at the sight and his mouth fell open. Bigger lights, turning from a dull orange to a sterilising, piercing white. His eyes ached from the colours, and he could see dotted circles when he managed to tear his gaze away. It got stronger, fiercer, harder to bear. His view was transfixed on the light, but his body began to relax.

And then, without a single moment's notice, it stopped. The room went dark again, leaving two confused boys staring at a blank space.

"What was that?!" Dick asked, a lump forming in his throat. It had suddenly gone dry, and it was hard to breathe.

Wally didn't say anything, but there was an unspoken agreement between them to get back into Wayne Manor before anything else could happen. Silently, they trudged back to the large house, Dick's mind swarming with questions. The recurring one being:

 _What the hell was going on?_

* * *

"Are you sure?" Roy Harper asked, sounding more skeptical than interested. His reddish hair was hidden underneath an orange archer's cap, that didn't actually fit his outfit, but it wasn't as if anybody paid much attention to it. He wore a pair of oversized sunglasses hiding his green eyes, and an amused smirk.

Wally and Dick nodded frantically, not daring to say a word. It had been two days after their discovery of the brain and the flashing lights, and neither of them had brought it up until the third member of their unofficial group had come back.

"I don't believe you," Roy stated, crossing his arms over his chest. In any other scenario, Dick would've brushed it off to Roy being difficult and leave the subject, but he was sure that there was something strange going on in the Anders household and they needed to investigate.

Wally beat him to the punch. "We'll show you then," he said, sounding as exasperated as Dick felt.

"In broad daylight?" The adopted son of Oliver Queen asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dick knew it sounded like a stupid idea – trust him, he'd endured many of Wally's helplessly rubbish but 'inventive' ideas. But going back and checking would help confirm his suspicions and remind him that it wasn't some random hallucination or dream. After a quick look from Roy (who probably wanted to check that Dick, the sane one of their group, was actually on board with the idea), he shrugged and muttered a quick, "Fine then. I still can't believe you two went through somebody's trash at night."

The task was much harder when it seemed that everybody in the neighbourhood was basking in the sunlight. Three teenage boys, eyes fixated on the ground, that wasn't suspicious at all. Especially when they were all casually hanging a couple of feet away from one of the houses, constantly looking around their shoulders.

"Quick!" Roy whispered, and Wally practically dove through the trash whilst Dick took guard. He could hear the inevitable ruffling as objects clanged together and smacked into the ground, and the occasional sounds made by Wally.

Two minutes later and the boy groaned. "I can't find it."

Dick didn't turn around for fear of being noticed. "What do you mean you can't find it? It can't have just disappeared."

The freckles boy faced him, shrugging. "It isn't there," Wally insisted.

Disbelieving, Dick swiftly changed places with his best friend and slowly sifted through the rubbish. It was a tedious task (mainly because he was being so meticulous about it, but he wanted to make sure that he'd checked for any items remotely resembling the brain, just in case he'd mistaken it). But there wasn't anything at all. No jelly, squishy objects or pink things.

He was beginning to worry about his sanity.

For extra reassurance, he began to look through the other trash cans. It was only after what felt like an eternity (but was probably less than a minute) a sweet voice rung out.

"Dick?" the voice had recognised him, which wasn't a good sign. "What are you doing with our trash?"

For a split second, he actually prayed that it was anybody but Kory. Bring the terrifying father, that was fine. The sharp-eyed mother? He would cope. But the pretty girl who made his tongue dry up in his throat? Dick Grayson, awkward teen heir to the throne of Wayne Enterprises, wasn't going to survive without embarrassing himself.

He turned around, resembling a deer caught in headlights, still clutching an apple juice carton. "Kory?" he managed to get out, feeling his face get hotter.

Roy and Wally were watching with amused looks, probably saving or savouring this moment in their heads for the rest of their lives.

She was standing on the step of the porch, hair trailing out, wearing a cream sundress with a pink floral pattern and flip flops. Pink painted toenails and a little butterfly clip on the right side of her hair. Her expression didn't convey any anger, just confusion. Which, if he thought about it, made sense since there was absolutely no logical explanation for why he was doing this.

"Well," he stumbled for words. His mind took this opportune moment to come up with ideas that made no absolute sense (but even if they did, he probably wouldn't be able to convince her)

Roy, seeming to sense his distress, gave an annoying smirk and outstretched his hand. "I'm Roy Harper."

He introduced himself at the same time Wally did; the result was a blurry name that sounded a lot like 'Rolly Harpest.'

They simultaneously both glared at each other, but Kory was already smiling again and it was hard to look away.

"Hello," she greeted, before turning back to him. "So Dick," she said, putting her drink to the side, "is there any reason why you're digging through our trash?" There wasn't a confrontational tone in her voice; she sounded genuinely curious.

The idea came to his mind quickly. "I'm doing a summer recycling project for school. I have to make items out of recycled materials."

She didn't entirely look persuaded, but her mouth formed a little 'o' shape. "What class is that for?"

They all blurted out different answers, which really didn't help anybody's case, since "Maths!" (eloquently added by Wally) "English!" (contributed by Roy's unhelpful mind) and "Economics!" (Dick didn't even know what was going on in his mind when he said that – it had to be alien powers messing with his mind) all didn't actually have much to do with recycling.

She opened her mouth to reply something, but Roy, smooth as ever, interrupted.

"In reality we were trying to figure out if you're an alien," he said, sounding like he was joking, when in reality the auburn boy was being one hundred percent truthful. "That's…" he continued, shooting a dirty look at Wally and Dick, "…a really stupid idea obviously, but you have to be from outer space because I've never seen anybody as beautiful as you."

Dick almost cried out. Roy had a girlfriend! He didn't need to spend his time flirting with pretty girls who were way out of his league! Especially when those girls were Kory.

She took a sip of her yellow-coloured drink and bit back a smile. After she'd thanked him, her cheeks flushed a warm shade of red.

Wally jumped into the conversation as soon as he found an opening, which irked Dick greatly, since he couldn't deal with the jealousy that came when both of his friends flirted with his (tiny) crush. "You know," he said, slicking back his hair and waggling his eyebrows, "if you need someone to show you around school, I can help. They don't call me the 'Wall-mister' for nothing."

"Nobody calls you that," Dick muttered, but he was drowned out by the sounds of Roy's flirting.

He was tempted to stalk off moodily, until Kory turned to him and touched him on the arm. "You're coming to the party this Saturday, right?" she asked, her head tilted slightly.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Roy rolling his eyes and Wally glowering slightly, but that didn't matter because absolutely gorgeous Kory, was talking to _him_! Any thoughts about aliens and outer space creatures had dissipated as soon as his eyes had met hers, and now it sounded like she actually wanted him to come to the party. Which was great, because he _really_ liked her.

The words came out slowly, but that didn't matter. "Yeah," he cleared his throat, just to make sure his voice didn't go all squeaky and excited as it sometimes did. "I'm going. I'll see you there?" Dick questioned, adopting an offhand sound to his voice.

For one scary moment, he expected her to laugh out loud or shake her head and say something horrible, like that she wasn't going this week. Or that she really didn't care whether or not he came.

But another sweet Kory-smile (they had this incredible power of making his knees weaker than usual) and her confirmation. "Yes," reassured him that nothing was wrong.

And for the first time, he actually had a reason to attend the dumb, unnecessary party, and not just because Bruce had forced him to.

Roy was quietly sniggering in the background; Dick could hear the small intakes of breaths between each laugh, but he brushed it away. "I'll be at the party too," Roy unhelpfully chimed in, still sounding amused, and Dick bristled because Kory actually looked interested in his presence.

"Apparently we'll be celebrating the wedding anniversary of the Kane family, although I'm not sure," Kory admitted, moving wisps of hair to the side.

An image of the pristine family rippled through his mind. Bette Kane – the youngest daughter – blonde and blue-eyed, was around the same age as him, and she'd had a bit of a crush on him last year, which had made interactions between them more awkward than usual.

There was sort of teasing look on her face, as she said, "You know Wall-mister, you _can_ continue looking for your recycling project items if you want. As long as you don't make too much of a mess."

Wally's face turned as red as his hair, and Dick cast a look to Roy. "Great idea!" he commented. "Why don't you go help him, _Roy_?" He drew out the name as a subtle dismissal on his part, but he received a lazy smile instead.

"Nah, it's fine." Roy said, sitting on the steps of the porch. He placed a hand on Kory's shoulder and adjusted his cap with the other. "I'd rather sit here and talk to Kory instead."

Inside, Dick Grayson was fuming at the sheer nerve. He scowled bitingly, and then decided that _he_ could play this game just as well as the redhead. Instead of joining Wally, he followed suit as Kory sat down, inching closer until their knees brushed and Kory's cheeks stained red.

Roy only gave an irritating smirk, and shuffled closer, causing Dick to do the same and then the former action was repeated, until both were pressed tightly into the beautiful girl. And as awesome as that was, Dick couldn't help but notice Kory's embarrassed expression. Feeling her cool breath against his neck, he glanced at her eyes that were a hurricane of swirled shades of green and initiated a poor attempt at a conversation.

"You know this year's homecoming is gonna be great, since it's Gotham Tigers fiftieth year anniversary since they were first formed." Unfortunately, he couldn't really continue talking about the event, since his mind was already distracted by picturing how utterly gorgeous the golden girl would look in a green dress (one that matched her eyes).

When she was confused, her whole body radiated that emotion, little crinkles forming above her eyebrows. "What is _homecoming_?" Kory asked, and Roy's jaw slacked in shock.

Dick scrambled to find the right words. "It's a school celebration with pep rallies and sporting events," he finally said, trying to simplify it as much as possible.

"Oh," she concluded, "that sounds lovely."

Roy possessed one of those lopsided grins that made girls swoon whenever they were nearby, but Kory seemed to be the first exception. "There's also a homecoming dance," his additional information caused Dick to narrow his eyes, fully aware of the intentions.

Her eyes shone with the new added information, and he could feel the butterflies swarming around in his stomach. Roy continued, seemingly refusing to part with that stupid smirk that made Dick want to throw something at him.

"And they have a homecoming prince and princess from the underclassmen, who's usually the most attractive. There's no doubt who the princess will be this year, though."

Wally suddenly jumped up, and Dick had almost forgotten he was there. Gripping the side for support, Wally narrowly avoided falling flat on his face, but his weight crashed against Kory's glass of unknown-substance and knocked it over the white porch. The effect was instantaneous – yellow splatter found itself on Dick's blue-t-shirt and all over Kory's luscious curls. The furthest member of the group lay untouched, but his cap fell off in surprise.

The liquid snaked around the floor and then the smell hit; it was so bad that Dick gagged and clutched a hand to his nose to avoid breathing it in. Wally yelped like a dog, and picked himself up from the tangle he had gotten in but the damage was done.

Kory looked like she was going to cry with her watery eyes, and Dick honestly felt really bad for her, since most of the liquid had ended up braided within her thick curls that were beginning to clump together.

Wally cried out, "Oh crap!" and then as an afterthought, "um, is everybody okay?"

Both redheads nodded slowly, and Dick exhaled deeply, forcing a grin. "Sure," was Roy's response, sitting back into the porch.

Dick gritted his teeth, and smeared the liquid, but it clung to his fingers, causing him to wonder for the second time that day, what the hell it was. He was tempted to try a bit (maybe that would notify him what it was) but decided against it when Wally started motioning to behind him – a signal that it was time to go back to the house.

"Looks like we gotta go." Roy jumped up immediately, but not before blowing Kory a kiss, which made her giggle slightly. The heir of Bruce Wayne fumed internally, but perked up as soon as she locked eyes with him a blew one of her own.

Wally didn't say anything, and him and Roy were already finding their way back across the pavilion. Dick hung back, picking up the glass that had rolled onto his side, and using the moment to apologise as much as he could.

He gave the glass to her, and did everything in his power not to scream when her fingers brushed his. "Hey, um, I'm really sorry about last Saturday. I acted a bit like an asshole, and I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

Her hand was back on his arm. "You didn't do anything," she reassured.

"And I'm sorry about Wally's mess. You're probably gonna have to wash your hair." He stated the obvious, and regretted it very quickly.

Kory's hand was now on his chest (if he was being specific, it was clutching his t-shirt, but it was basically the same thing). "Well at least we're matching," she grinned.

He nodded, his tongue refusing to create any more words and his face heating up. Finally, he found the power to speak again, but even then, he resembled a flailing fish. "Um, so yeah…I uh…I gotta go back to my friends – my other friends, I mean."

Her hand still hadn't moved, but he liked it there. Eventually it dropped to her side, and she gave another breathtaking smile. "Bye Dick! Don't forget about this Saturday!"

As if he was going to _forget_ , he scoffed inside, walking at a slow pace, but not having the courage to turn around. His two best friends were already making goo-goo faces at him, applying falsettos to their voice and imitating him ("Oh Kory! I totally love you! Why don't you have my babies? You're _like_ my soul mate.") and swooning dramatically, before he casually shoved them in the side and continued to do so until they stopped.

Through the foyer which was guarded by two oak doors, third left from the right, into their latest room used for hangouts.

"Guys?" Wally asked nervously, once they were comfortably inside. He was leaning against the green wallpaper, one hand dangling by his side and the other resting in his pocket. "Uh, I-I think Kory's an alien."

Dick froze, incredulous. "What?" he asked, turning to expect one of Wally's signature smiles that would indicate he was joking.

"I think Kory's an alien." Wally repeated, with a straight face.

Roy's eyebrows raised and he perched onto the cream couch, running a hand through his hair. The sofas in Wayne Manor's Game Room were always filled with pillows, and he dumped a few of them on the side. With its bright paint and television screen that took up a whole wall, and included features like 3D movies, Blueray, and a handful of extras Dick had never tested out, the room was probably his favourite.

"What makes you think that?" Roy bit the bullet and finally asked, whilst Dick patted at his own t-shirt, still wondering how he was going to explain to Alfred how he'd messed up yet _another_ shirt.  
Wally counted the reasons out on his fingers, choosing to stay upright, whilst the other two slowly sank into the coach. "Okay, one: where is she from? I don't know. Apparently she's from some place called 'Tamaran' – according to the letters we found in her trash – but I've never heard of that place. Have you?"

Dick remained silent, because he'd never heard of it either.

The boy continued. "Two: there was a freakin' brain in her trash. A _brain_! I'm sorry, what sort of normal person has a _brain_ in their trash?! And when we looked for it again, it had disappeared, because they knew we had found it and would be skeptical." He paced around the room, eyes wide, nearly hysterical.

Except, they weren't even sure what they had seen. Dick had definitely seen something resembling a brain, but apart from a half-hearted visual confirmation (which took place in the dim evening), there wasn't anything else to aid their suspicions. He considered bringing this point in, but then decided against it, wanting to hear all of what Wally had to say.

"Three: Kory didn't know what homecoming was. Who doesn't know what homecoming is? There are kids in England who know what homecoming is, and _they're_ not American!"

Dick interjected. "She mentioned being homeschooled. And plus she's from a foreign country, so the chances of her knowing that decreases even more."

"Maybe she's just dumb," Roy cheerfully supplied.

Dick glared at him fiercely. "No she isn't!" he defended.

Roy only sniggered, and then rudely teased, "We're gonna have to excuse Romeo here, since he's a little biased and kind of wants to get in her pants."

Even though that was the complete opposite of what Dick wanted to do (if he was being truthful, that was like half of what he wanted to do), feeling the anger from Roy's flirting, he stated, "Well I wasn't going to get anywhere with you all over her."

Wally groaned, slapping the side of his forehead. "Dude, I thought you were supposed to be smart. She kept rejecting Roy and decided to talk to you instead. She couldn't even keep her eyes off of you. It was like the beginning of some soppy Romcom."

Despite the whole discussion at hand, Dick couldn't resist the warm feeling that spread inside when he heard that. He hoped what Wally claimed was right, otherwise his year was going to be just as sour as it was last year, when Babs politely declined his offer of a date.

" _Anyways_ ," Wally steered the conversation back to his initial point. "Four: those creepy lights coming from one of the rooms. There isn't any rational explanation for that."

Roy shook his head, looking frustrated.

"Five: you know that yellow substance she was drinking earlier?"

" – the one that you spilled everywhere?" Dick asked, but was subsequently ignored.

"– I'm pretty sure it was mustard. I tasted some of it, and it was really tangy and bitter. And I'm sorry, but nobody remotely normal – nobody remotely human drinks mustard!" Wally was insistent that there was something weird about her, and as rational as Dick was trying to be, his theory did make sense. Roy even nodded at the last sentence, mumbling something about reading a comic book.

Dick fought with his logical side – he really did. But everything was starting to add up, starting to make sense. Their whole family was the human embodiment of mystery – Kory was the only one who seemed remotely social, and even then, today had been the first time Dick had seen her outside the house (not that he watched or waited for her or anything creepy like that).

Roy was the first to speak up, leaning on his hand that was propped up by his elbow. He was cross legged, pressed against the cushions. "It kind of makes sense," he admitted. "But it can't be true…can it?"

"I think it's the lights and drink that really emphasises that there's something weird going on. The rest could be chalked up to really odd circumstances." Dick finally summed up, scratching the bottom of his chin. He sighed quietly. "What do we do?"

Wally, ever supplied with answers, crossed his arms and said with an air of determination, "We've got to confront her –" and continued, even when the black-haired member of their group visibly winced. "– and make sure that her motives aren't skewed or anything like that. Then we just get on with our lives, I guess."

Dick still wasn't entirely convinced, but there was a feeling of uneasiness that had settled in his stomach and wouldn't disappear, even when he gulped down a glass of water. He rubbed his eyes, his brain already forming ideas on what to do. Eventually he stood up, darted into Bruce's private study and searched for a whiteboard.

The study had dark oak paneling and a large desk centred in the middle, with a red rug underneath. A chandelier dangling preciously from the ceiling and small versions dotted all around the walls. A leafy plant in each corner, and Bruce's silver laptop – surrounded by piles of books – resting on the table.

He shoved past the cupboards and grabbed a handful of markers and wipes. They fit in his pocket, leaving his two hands free to carry the thirty-inch whiteboard. All of this was done in a few minutes, and he swiftly arrived back in the room, polishing the final parts of his strategy.

"I've got a plan," he announced, and began scribbling instructions on the board.

* * *

Roy was already in position by the time Kory and her family came out, and Dick's eyes widened at how pretty she looked. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and shoved his hands into his pockets, which was much more comfortable than having adults trying to shake his hands. Making eye contact with the redhead girl, he flushed when she winked at him, and then ducked away since her Dad suddenly looked in their direction.

The plan was simple – Dick was going to lead Kory to a more secluded spot. Preferably the kids' park behind the houses since nobody really went there anymore and it was a great make out spot (but it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about kissing her on more the one occasion). Roy was lookout – since it was evident that her parents were very protective of her – and Wally was backup in case Kory tried to use her alien powers to escape (although Dick still wasn't sure if she was an alien or not).

She adjusted her curls and gave a coy smile, proceeding to walk towards him before her dad placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her away. Dick groaned, and quickly sent a text message to Roy, asking him to make a distraction so they could lure Kory away.

Roy's response was knocking over a tray of golden champagne and glasses all over Helena Bertinelli who tripped over Mrs Weathers' son and both of them ended up drenched in alcohol.

Dick quietly sniggered, and watched as Michael Anders, noble hero, ran in to help the poor boy. Kory made a move to follow, but Dick beckoned and she sheepishly changed her mind.

His palms were already sweaty due to the mere thought of Kory talking to him, but he hastily wiped them over his trousers and gave a smile (which was easy since being near Kory always triggered one). He could hear fragments of Roy's apology in the background, but he brushed them away and focused on the mission on hand: having a conversation with the beautiful girl.

She was wearing another sundress (she must've had a whole wardrobe dedicated to them) but it was green and brought out the colours in her eyes. He guessed that it would be a good conversation starter, then worried if he was acting too forward. It was too late though, and the words had already tumbled out of his mouth.

A quiet giggle, and her hand brushed his arm, making him blush madly. She leant forward and quietly thanked him.

Kory was so close that Dick wanted to kiss her wildly and forget everything else around him. He could imagine running his hands through her hair as he pulled her closer and –

"Dick?" she interrupted, looking concerned.

"Huh?" he asked.

"I was just asking if you wanted a drink," she explained, looking as innocent at ever.

He shook his head, and tried to clear his throat again, not able to look her in the eyes.

Dick noticed that her dad was almost done with cleaning the mess, and he knew that now was the only time to move Kory away. Throwing Roy an urgent look he moved forward, the former accidentally dropping a cupcake on somebody's hat, waiting for chaos to unfold.

He clasped her hands together, managing to find his voice. "Hey," he asked, "have you explored the area yet?"

She shook her head, "No," and then stiffened slightly, explaining that she'd been really busy the past few weeks.

The opportunity was right in front of him, and he grabbed it immediately. Trying to sound as smooth as possible, Dick offered, "I could show you around right now, if you want."

Kory grinned, showing straight teeth. "I'd love that." Her reply had flirty undertones to it, and for once he didn't feel as nervous (even though he was sure anyone within a seven-mile radius could hear his heart thumping in his chest).

Her hand suddenly slipped into his, and he gave a quick subtle nod of the head to Wally, indicating that they were going somewhere else private. Dick bristled slightly, knowing that the hard part was only beginning.

The whole area consisted of prim and preened lawns and a little fountain to the side. There were at least twenty-two estates all collectively scattered around, and the pair walked towards the eastern front, quickly disappearing behind the shelter of the houses. His hand felt sweatier than usual, gripping tightly to her soft one, and he silently wished that he wasn't so worried about the upcoming moments.

The park came into view with its red swing set and green slide. Two blue and white merry-go-rounds, a climbing frame and a group of little pale wooden benches. Kory squealed in surprise – reminiscent of a child – and then hurriedly ran to the swing set and started to swing wildly.

Dick could only watch in amusement, until she called out, "come on and join me!"

He couldn't refuse, not when she was giggling madly, her whole body shaking vividly with each swoop. The air made him dizzy with excitement, as he flew forwards and backwards. He could see the bright spotlight of the circus, dancing on the ground, the colours of his parents' uniforms as they soared forwards and…

His grip on the string loosened and he crashed into the grass, as Kory gasped audibly. She was by his side in seconds, picking him up, the little crease between her eyebrows returning again.

"Dick?" she asked, the embodiment of worry. "Are you okay?"

Rubbing at his eyes, he nodded and gulped. "Fine," he lied. "Kinda lost myself there."

No matter how much he tried to convince and reason with himself, Dick Grayson was still high on the feelings, and he leaned forward, closer to Kory. She was kneeling on the grass, still looking utterly gorgeous. He was inches away from her lips, and he couldn't resist the temptation. Slowly he moved closely, locked in her gaze.

Until Wally suddenly appeared out of nowhere, with his carrot hair and bright t-shirt.

"Dude, you okay back there? I saw the fall," he explained. "it looked pretty painful."

Dick could've screamed out loud, right there. The frustration tore at him, but he gritted his teeth and flopped sideways. "I'm fine."

Wally didn't look like he believed him, but that was the least of Dick's worries. The redhead turned to the other similar girl in the group, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Dick's hand made contact with his forehead and he internally groaned.

"Whilst I'm here, I've got a question to ask you, _Kory_." Wally drew the word out slowly, as if was some magic spell or the key to the universe.

The aforementioned Kory's eyes widened; she was uncomfortable, and Dick could understand what was running through his mind. Wally was intentionally being suggestive, and it sounded like he was going to ask her out on a date or something along those lines – when in reality, Dick knew that his best friend would never do that, especially when _he_ had outright said that he had a crush on Kory.

"Um," she stalled, looking worried. Eventually she shrugged, her body relaxing with her expression frozen. "What is it?"

Wally didn't even try for a build up, he just blurted it out. "Are you an alien?"

Kory froze, mouth parted. " _Sorry?"_

"Are. You. An. Alien?" Wally repeated again.

" _No!"_

He'd never seen a girl look so pissed before, but Wally had already starting pestering her with questions, reminiscent of a news reporter.

"Where's Tamaran? I've never heard of it before. I bet you that's the name of your alien planet. There was a brain in your trash, any comment? What about those weird lights we saw coming out of the second bedroom window last week? What were you drinking a few days ago? Mustard?"

Kory answered the questions, in the exact right order, and even Wally looked impressed. She smoothed down her dress and explained the (more) rational answers that Dick should've figured out ages ago.

"Tamaran is beside the Cayman Islands, off the coast of Florida. Brain? Ryan made a Jell-O one a couple of months because he saw a video on the internet. The second bedroom window is our cinema room, and when _certain_ people forget to close the blinds it looks like a UFO show. And I was drinking a Tamaranean smoothie with mangoes and tangy zorkaberries."

She said it in a whole breath, and Dick struggled to understand it all.

Wally blinked, as if a light bulb had just lit itself in his brain. "Oh."

Kory's arms were crossed against her chest, and she looked genuinely hurt and offended – Dick didn't blame her. Wally was red with embarrassment, and Dick, the silent factor in all of this didn't know what to say.

Eventually his best friend gave an awkward grin. "I'm gonna go now," he explained, and Kory only stared at the grass in response.

"I'm really sorry," Dick apologised, as Kory slowly leaned into his arm. She shook her head, letting curls fall onto his chest and gave a tiny smile. Wally slowly disappeared behind the trees, probably to join the party, even though he didn't actually live there. He was probably going to report the news to Roy, which meant that Dick only had a limited window of opportunity.

"It's fine," she reassured.

Kory then paused, a sly look on her face. "Even if I was an alien, I probably wouldn't be as obvious as Wally was convinced I am."

Eager to keep the conversation going, Dick tried to flirt a little. "What would you be like, then?"

She pondered for a minute and then looked up at him again. "I would have super powers. Shoot green bolts of energy from my hands. And I'd fly too. That would be fun."

Dick liked how close she was, and he did his best not to snuggle into her.

"Yeah," he considered. "but you'd have to have more alien qualities. Or you could just be classified as a super heroine."

Suddenly she'd spun on her side, shining into his eyes like two bright headlights. He froze, the metaphorical deer in the situation. He could smell her strawberry shampoo and take in every detail, like the small splash of freckles on her nose or how her eyelashes naturally curled instead of staying straight like every other girl in America.

The way she breathed, that sent little ripples of air through her gorgeous curls.

Her voice was almost a whisper, and his throat closed up. "I'd have the ability to learn any language instantaneously," she amended.

It was a wonder he could manage the one word. "How?" he asked, feeling her cool breath on his cheek.

"Through lip contact!" she replied, as if it was the most simple thing in the universe. And Dick guessed it was, but he didn't really have any time to think it through because suddenly her lips was pressed against his and his mouth almost opened in shock.

She was kissing him.

His hands were already buried in her hair, and he inhaled everything, including the scent of her sweet perfume and the taste of her lips. It was a wonderful feeling, with the grass underneath, and her arms wrapped around his body. He was already deepening the kiss, pulling her closer, totally forgetting about anything and everything around him.

And he didn't care if Roy had accidentally stumbled on them, probably to flirt with Kory and rile him up a little. Nor did he care if Wally actually called his name and told him to stop "sucking face with the pretty redhead."

Because Kory was kissing him.

And it was perfect.

* * *

 _ **the end**_


End file.
